Writer’s Manifesto

Today I re-read one of my old (and most favorite) poems, “Whiskey Pleading,” and listened to Miranda Lambert’s new album, “The Weight of These Wings,” on repeat at work. Reminded of the power and intrigue behind the right word in the right place in a sentence or lyric, I wanted to write. “Writer’s Manifesto” was for me a 20-min respite from corporate life on a Tuesday afternoon.


It’s beige on end

An end of the road

Soul’s like paper

Rolled up and stored


Blue reflections from the screen

In my eyes where thoughts used to be

Fingers on keys, not a piano

Rings through wires on a telephone


I look for the words

Every day

On the street, bus, and train


I look for the time

Sometimes it’s there

But so is fear

And “who will care?”


Living with heart

I’ll keep my eyes open

Beige to color

And my hand to the pen


Published by: Ann Syrowski

The stats: 28 years old M.S. Atmospheric Science B.S. Geology I'm a Chicago-based normal person who goes to work every day but has a dream of becoming the best writer I can possibly be with the tools I've been given. I love this city, my family, friends, a strong drink, music, and the outdoors. On any given Saturday I could be at a museum taking in a new exhibit, or lying in my bed covered in breakfast crumbs while watching Father of the Bride for the 99th time. Both are equally likely.

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